The Reunion
by StarLightAtTheMoon
Summary: Anton goes to visit his father's grave and runs into someone from his past. Slash.
1. Shivers

**Pt. 1: Shivers**

Summary: After being apart for six years, Anton Prosper and Steffan Kabala meet again

Disclaimer: Recognizable characters or places belong to Wendy Pini, lyrics belong to Dio

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><p><em>Fingers scratching blackboards make cowards of the brave<br>A natural reaction from the cradle to the grave  
>Rats and bats and spiders and little things that crawl<br>Never made me tremble, I'm not bothered, not at all_

_Then I saw you_  
><em>Something new inside of me<em>  
><em>But what's this shaking?<em>  
><em>You made me shiver<em>

Unfeeling.

That's one of the ways he'd heard himself being described, cold was another. And yes, maybe it was so, but it was by his choice.

He'd learnt early on that you'd get farther, be more likely to be successful in what you're doing, if you just stayed calm and controlled your emotions instead of acting on them and get upset and show just how desperate you are. He'd learnt that from his father, both the parent's words of advice and when he'd taken the son to attend meetings with him.

Whatever was thrown at him, Anton took it all with the same calm indifference, never once letting anybody or anything take him by surprise. Whatever may come, he was prepared for it.

And why wouldn't he be, the people around him never seemed to change, the days was looking all the same. It was a monotony he was more than comfortable with. The only thing that had changed was that his father was no longer around, he was alone with a herd of advisors who hadn't got the slightest clue about his plans for the future.

At a young age he'd taken up his father's business, having learnt about them during his father's lifetime – that's why he'd been conceived; to be an heir. His father had never married, so the conception hadn't been the traditional one but a woman had been picked for her good genes and been paid for her part in it. But she would have to pay a price too, she had to disappear never to have any contact with the son and that's why Anton had never known her.

He thought of it at times, but every time he pushed the thoughts away thinking that it was useless to dwell on as she probably didn't care about him anyway, just another woman in it for the money. If she'd really loved him, if she'd really wanted to see him, she wouldn't have cared about that she'd been told she couldn't see her son. She would have tried to find him.

He'd come to expect nothing from others, take distance from them, to think that they would only see you whenever there was something you could do for them.

He'd been prepared for anything. Just when he left the Townhouse that night he didn't know that it would come to change his life forever.

Stepping out of the car he approached the metal gates which, as sensors picked up his approach, opened before him. The gates closed behind him with a dull thud, and Anton stood for a second staring out over rows and rows of graves, of which one was the one he'd come to visit.

His mind was elsewhere but he didn't need to tell his feet where to go, after six years when he'd gone to the grave at that day – the anniversary of his father's death – he knew the way by heart.

Every time, every year, as he walked down the rows of stones he was torn. He wondered why he did go at all, he would end up in front of a silent grave with spiteful memories that he'd managed to keep of his mind. Till he stood staring at that stone with his father's name on.

And that's all it was, a stone. His father had been cremated and then put in a vault, like so many others, and then this stone had been set up to mark the ending of his existence.

He stopped and like the five previous times he'd come, he stood by the grave, hazel eyes staring expressionless at the green patch of grass in front of the stone.

"You come here every year, but you don't seem to care much."

Anton went rigid, his gaze suddenly intense, startled by the voice that had spoken up. He hadn't noticed that someone was there with him, having been dwelling deep in thoughts.

He turned to look over his shoulder and gasped at the sight that greeted him, for a moment unable to breathe.

_Cemetery midnights, walking on the dead  
>Never seemed to matter, it's all inside your head<br>Names are only letters mentioned on a stone  
>And if you're going somewhere you're going in alone<em>

_Then I saw you_  
><em>Something new inside of me<em>  
><em>Felt this shaking<em>  
><em>You gave me shivers<em>

A couple of meters further down the row, in the direction from which he'd come stood a boy. He was short and slender, his face was golden and by far more beautiful than any Anton had ever seen before. From the crown of his head halfway down his slim torso flowed pale white hair, in great contrast with the surrounding darkness of the night. Green eyes fixed on Anton shone as with an inner light.

Anton stood staring at the other for a while, spellbound and trying to figure out why the boy, who looked to be about 15-16 years old, was familiar. But where would he have met him?

When he didn't answer the boy walked the last few meters up to him to stand before him, but instead of repeating the question or saying anything at all he turned to gaze upon the stone that had been raised to honor the memory of Anton Prosper the Third.

"I remember that day," the boy said, his voice a soft murmur that Anton found quite attractive, reading the date of death of the stone. "It was the day when mother took me with her to the meeting at Trankule Corp. The day we met."

Anton stared at him, now suddenly remembering the ten year old boy he'd by chance run into.

"You weren't close?" the boy, Steffan he remembered his name to be, asked glancing at him inquiring. When Anton gave him a blank-faced look in returned, Steffan added: "Is that why you seem to force yourself to go here?"

Anton held the other's stare for a little longer before he turned to give the tomb stone a thin lipped smile.

"It doesn't matter if I come here or not, even if his remains would be resting here he wouldn't know that I'd come. It's all in your head, a delusion made up in your mind."

"So why did you come?" Steffan wondered confused.

It was just for show, that was what Anton told himself, he'd got over his father's death long ago. He didn't think that his plans for the future – a future with no end - had anything to do with the scene that had taken place right before his eyes six year earlier.

"Inspiration," came the reply, which got the beautiful youth even more confused.

Anton's smile got wider. He would succeed in a way that his father wouldn't even had come close to think about, that anybody would ever think about, and he would outlive them all. A low laughter that had his companion a bit frightened escaped his lips.

"Why are _you _here?" Anton asked while observing the beautiful face he didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off.

"I followed you."

Anton's eyebrows rose and he was speechless for a moment, and then:

"You followed me?"

"I wanted to see you again," Steffan said. "It's been so long."

What's the catch, Anton asked himself, _why _do you want to see me?

_Magic charms and voodoo and all those other spells  
>Never made impressions and I never slept so well<br>If I had a nightmare, I'm sure that I would know  
>I really don't remember, but I'm sure it isn't so<em>

_Then I saw you_  
><em>Something new inside of me<em>  
><em>What's this shaking?<em>

Later, when he'd spent what he thought was appropriate amount of time on the cemetery, he left heading back for the car. He didn't get into it though, but turned to look back at the boy, Steffan, who was standing a short distance away looking at him silently.

"How do you get home?" Anton inquired.

Steffan shrugged.

"I walk I guess," he said softly.

This late? Anton frowned, when he'd met Steffan's mother she hadn't come off as the warmest of persons but would she really have her young, strikingly beautiful, son walking home all alone at this late hour?

"You can go with me," Anton said.

But instead of being relieved by the offer Steffan seemed reluctant, as if he didn't at all cherish the thought of going home.

"I can't come home yet," Steffan replied. "Mother doesn't expect me till the day after tomorrow."

"I see," Anton said slowly, not at all understanding. He turned back to the car when he felt small drops falling on him. It had started to rain. He looked over his shoulder toward Steffan, the rain, the drops growing larger and more consistent, was in fast pace soaking his thin shirt and trousers. "If you can't go home, then at least come with me. You can't spend the night outdoors in this weather, you'll get sick."

Steffan made a show of hesitation but then he climbed in through the open door and settled down to watch Anton sit down as well.

Anton abruptly turned his head when he felt something pressing against him, to find that Steffan had moved to sit next to him, trembling from the cold. A bit hesitant, Anton moved to put an arm around slender shoulders, feeling the youth lean into the embrace.

Shaking his head, ridding himself of the trance he seemed be under, Anton looked away from the face, which with its closed eyes and the serene expression was even more beautiful.

Anton leant back in the seat closing his eyes, sighing a little, thinking that it was another year passed.

_Turn out the light it won't matter  
>A bucket of blood, I'm still fine<br>A black cat's only a color  
>But you can do it every time<em>

Arriving at the Townhouse, Anton turned to his companion, but Steffan was sleeping soundly. Gathering the slender frame in his arms Anton picked him up and, declining the Chief Attendant's offer of assistance, carried him up the steps and in through the door.

Inside, Anton brought him to one of the guestrooms where he put him down on the bed. He sat on the bed next to the sleeping one, for a while just watching, reluctantly amazed by the stunning being lying there. He noticed that Steffan was shivering and so he removed the still damp clothes and placed him beneath the quilt. Steffan stirred a little mumbling incoherent and then came still.

Anton rose from the bed and headed for the door, where he came to halt, to look back at the still form. He couldn't remember ever having met anyone who had caught his attention as efficiently as Steffan had, and it got him a bit on edge.


	2. Motives

**Pt. 2: Motives**

Summary: Anton's quite taken by his young guest, but something happens to change his view on Steffan.

Implied slash

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><p>The first thing he did that morning was to sit down by a computer, a steaming cup of coffee sitting on the table next to it - though for the moment it was forgotten as something had captured the mind in front of the screen.<p>

He didn't know Steffan Kabala, and he was certain that he wouldn't have brought the younger man home if it hadn't been for that pretty face, and so he'd logged on to see what he could find on his latest acquaintance, and it hadn't taken long before results had shown up.

It said that Steffan Kabala was 16 years old and the only child of Josefine Kabala, the father being a donor and so he hadn't been around during Steffan's childhood (which had been Madame Kabala's wish). Quite recently he'd turned to modeling, though most of his time was taken up by school.

The latter was what had caught his attention, the studies Steffan was devoting his time to was in the scientific field. Anton guessed that he shouldn't be surprised, after all Steffan's mother, Madame Kabala, was a scientist. Like her Steffan was focusing on genetics.

Silently contemplating, he absently turned his gaze when hearing the soft sound of paws over the floor as his pet, and only being he felt he could trust - a black panther named Royess, crossed the room. She walked up to the window and in a graceful movement she jumped up onto the window sill, which was broad enough to hold the young cub as she stretched out.

Taking his eyes of Royess he looked back at the screen. Anton had picked a link and an assortment of images had shown up, some less tasteful than other, and he had real hard to understand why a science student would let himself be exploited in such fashion. How was anybody to take him seriously after they'd got used to seeing him like that, as an object praised for his good looks?

No, he didn't understand, but it was far from the only question he was pondering.

Steffan had been out in the middle of the night, all alone, and it had been obvious that he thought that it was important that he didn't come home for days. First Anton thought that maybe he'd done something, but then he remembered Steffan saying that his mother didn't _expect _him till then. But why?

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><p>He'd been sitting there for hours, having left the mystery surrounding his guest in favor of business related things, when he felt like someone was watching him. And he wasn't mistaken; on the other side of the desk sat Steffan gazing at him absent-mindedly. When he noticed that Anton was watching him in return, he smiled faintly.<p>

"Thank you," Steffan said, "for letting me stay the night." He paused, as thinking what to say next. "I got to leave now, but I wanted to see you first… to thank you."

"Got school to get to?" Anton replied.

Steffan blinked, seemingly stunned by the notion, but quickly regained composure.

"No, no school this week. But I got… errands."

Anton noted the slight hesitation toward the end of the reply, but didn't ask.

"You got plans on where to stay tonight?" Anton said surprising himself, he hadn't intend to ask that.

"Nothing written in stone," Steffan said. "I guess I'll do like last night; just see what I can find. Or I would have if you hadn't come around."

He didn't quite understand what Steffan meant by 'see what he could find', but it didn't disturb him as much as the beautiful young man out on the streets of Sivarsi 9 in the middle of the night.

"If you'd come back, you can stay here," he called after Steffan as he began to leave.

Steffan stopped and looked at him over his shoulder, for a moment looking thoughtful, and then he offered a smile and nodded.

After Steffan had left, Anton sat staring at the shut door for a moment, before turning to Royess.

"Why do I care so much anyway?" he wondered.

Royess had gazed at him lazily, but at his question her gaze turned into a 'you-just-don't-get-it,-do-you?'-look.

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><p>That afternoon was dedicated to a meeting, something Anton was glad for. He didn't usually have trouble with people lingering on his mind, unless they held some kind of significance. So he shouldn't be as distracted by Steffan, he was just some kid he'd met a couple of times.<p>

Then why had he invited him to stay in his house not only once but twice?

He shook his head, seeing no apparent answer.

Yes, he was glad that he had the meeting to focus on. Or, well, he _was_.

As he stepped inside the hotel, which housed the conference room where the meeting would be held, he immediately caught a by now familiar sight.

In the lobby, sitting comfortably on a couch, was Steffan. He wasn't alone though; next to him sat a handsome man who looked to be in his early thirties, and whom Steffan was smiling at charmingly.

Anton couldn't hear the words that were spoken between them, but what he could read from their body language was clear enough. He saw the looks Steffan gave the man, and the ones he got in return, and he saw how Steffan leant in close as if to tell the other a secret that was for no other ears. He seemed to have great… affection… for that man. And Anton found that it was bothering him.

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><p>He had maintained his focus during the meeting, by habit pushing the thoughts of everything irrelevant aside, but as soon as it was over and the room was emptying and he left down the corridor heading for the elevator, Steffan returned to his mind. Not because the thought of him was invading, but because Anton heard his voice. It came from around a corner, from a corridor on his right which he, without giving any thought to it, had passed by. He retraced his steps back to the mouth of the corridor.<p>

"Yes, mother, everything's under control…" A soft mocking laughter "… He doesn't suspect a thing, swallows every word…"

As he listened his eyes narrowed. _Who _was Steffan talking about, was it the man Anton had seen him with earlier? Or was it Anton? No, he decided, it had to be the other. He left and headed for and into the elevator. But it didn't make sense, they had been so affectionate. Was it just an act on Steffan's behalf?

_Don't be so naïve, he might seem like an innocent little kid, but you heard what he just said._

The doors closed, and the floors started to count down till he would be back in the lobby. He knew it already, that people did that; take advantage of others, so why was he surprised?

_Because you let your emotions and the attraction allow you to be fooled._

He nodded, Steffan wasn't any more innocent that anybody else.

"Well," he said to the silent elevator, "that won't happen again."


	3. Motives: Steffan's Side of the Story

**Pt. 2: Motives (Steffan's side of the story)**

Summary: What Steffan didn't tell Anton when they met the night before, was that he did have plans

Slash.

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><p>When he opened his eyes that morning he was confused and it took a while before he remembered where he was.<p>

Half-closed, his eyes drifted lazily about the room taking it in. He must have been asleep already when brought there because he had no memory of the arrival.

He rolled over onto his side and came eye-to-eye with a clock sitting on the bedside table. 09.30 AM. Still early, he thought, and closing his eyes he sunk into the soft comfort surrounding him, then mere moments later his eyes opened when he heard a soft pinging sound.

"Yes," he said when he had, with tired slowness, pressed the right key.

"Is this a bad time?" a soft male voice on the other end of the conversation said, and Steffan sat up straight.

"No, not at all," Steffan quickly reassured.

The night before, at seeing Anton arriving at the graveyard, he'd called and told Pax Whim; a rich man in his thirties his mother had picked out for him and whom he was to see, that he wouldn't be able to make it, and that Pax could call him the next day if he had time.

"I have a gap now this afternoon, if you can make it…"

"Sure, when you're free?"

Pax gave him time and an address for where to meet him, and then they hung up. Steffan sunk back into the bed, slowly exhaling. Soon the chase, as his mother so fondly called it, was to continue. It wouldn't take long now till this one caved too…

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><p>Steffan silently entered the office, walking over to sit down in the chair in front of the large desk. For a moment his gaze travelled to the black cat that was lying on the window sill, its fur gleaming in the afternoon sun. He thought that it was one of the most magnificent animals he'd ever seen.<p>

Tearing his eyes away from the cat, his gaze went to the young man on the other side of the desk. Engrossed in something Steffan couldn't see what it was Anton hadn't noticed him coming, but Steffan didn't mind. Absent-mindedly, he was watching the other's handsome features, adding every little part of that face to his memory; for no other reason than because he would never want to forget it would they part. And of course they would.

He blinked and became aware of that Anton was watching him, and so he smiled faintly.

"Thank you," he said, "for letting me stay the night. I got to leave now, but I wanted to see you first… to thank you."

"Got school to get to?" Anton replied.

Steffan blinked. He hadn't seen that coming, few who met him gave attention to his studies rather than his… other qualities. And it was at moments like this that he was reminded of how old he really was. He was 16 and he was still in school, but there were the activities he was engaged in in his spare-time that made him forgetful of it.

"No, no school this week," he said, adding quickly: "But I got… errands."

Or rather a date. But he didn't tell Anton that, he didn't want the other man to know that he would be seeing someone that afternoon.

"You got plans on where to stay tonight?" Anton asked.

"Nothing written in stone," Steffan said, pleased that Anton had asked him. "I guess I'll do like last night; just see what I can find. Or I would have if you hadn't come around."

Not completely true - he did that at times but last night he'd had somewhere to go, he'd been on his way to Pax when he'd seen Anton's car come driving to stop by the cemetery. He rose and began to unhurriedly walk toward the door, when he heard Anton speak again.

"If you'd come back," he said, "you can stay here."

He stopped, being pretty sure that his eyes shone with the delight he was feeling at the moment, and glanced over his shoulder, trying in vain to read the blank face, and then he smiled and nodded before he continued out of the office.

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><p>Arriving a little before the set time, Steffan got there first and sat down on a couch to wait. The waiting wasn't long, as soon a young-looking man entered the lobby and looked about, pleased when seeing that Steffan was there.<p>

"I missed you last night," Pax said as he sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry," Steffan said, giving his most melting smile. "But something came up, and…"

"And you had to be somewhere else?" Pax filled in when Steffan left the reply hanging.

"Yes, that's right. But I got a lot of time on my hands now…"

Pax smiled, and Steffan was once again fascinated by how he could affect people. Maintaining his own smile, Steffan leant closer till his face was next to Pax's and he could swear that he heard the man's breath hitch, and said:

"You got a room, as you said you would?"

Stunned to silence by the beautiful face so close to his, Pax nodded.

* * *

><p>For the second time that day he was brought out of relaxed half slumber by a pinging sound. Activating the device he lay back again.<p>

"Yes?" he murmured.

"Puppy." It was his mother. "You haven't wasted the day away sleeping, have you?"

Steffan sighed. It had happened once, and she wouldn't let him forget about it anytime soon.

"No, I haven't."

"You're with Pax?"

"I am. Hold on a second."

He put her on hold and began to crawl out of bed, when he felt arms that closed around him and pulled him back.

"Don't go," Pax whispered in his ear.

"I won't be long," Steffan replied. "I'll just take this call and then I'll be back." He turned to face Pax and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. When the lips withdrew, so did the arms, though slowly, and Steffan slid off the bed and he reached for his trousers.

"Mother?" he said once the door closed behind him and he was standing in the corridor outside the room. "What do you want?"

"How hostile," his mother said. "I just wanted to know how my son's doing." A slight pause. "Did I perhaps interrupt something?"

"No. And I'm fine."

"Is he?"

He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Sure," Steffan said shrugging indifferently. "He's okay."

"And everything's going as planned?"

"Yes, mother, everything's under control." He laughed softly, feeling the excitement of the game the other man had no idea they were playing. "He doesn't suspect a thing, swallows every word."

"Don't get overconfident," his mother said coldly. "Things can still go wrong."

"I've done this before."

"Once or twice. But that doesn't make you an expert. I've done this stuff far more often - and for a longer time - than you, I know what can go wrong."

"I'll remember that," Steffan said rolling his eyes. "I got to go back now, before Pax start to miss me."

* * *

><p>"It was my mother," he said as he crept up next to Pax and an arm wound around his slender form. "She wanted to check up on me."<p>

"She's still being controlling?"

"Yes." Steffan sighed, putting his head down on the other's chest. "She's keeping track of every step I take, unwilling to let me have a life of my own." He paused, then said: "If I could, I would leave."

"What's stopping you?"

"Can't afford it."

"Hmm… Yes, you did mention that, didn't you?" Pax murmured reminiscing, tenderly stroking the younger man's hair. Steffan nodded.

He'd slyly slipped it into a earlier conversation, in a suitable passage, that he had problems with his mother, who - according to the story he and his mother had come up for this occasion – was controlling his life in the meaning that she made sure to be aware of where he went and with who he was and of course she was in charge of the money.

Pursing his lips, doing some thinking of his own, he thought that it wasn't all untrue. While they didn't spent much time arguing, his mother did have a tendency to exercise control over him and they did have disagreement. Mostly those disagreements were focused on her thinking that Steffan was being overconfident of his skill and knowledge in the game they were playing with people.

Steffan turned to glance at Pax, who slowly turned to look at him seeming to make up his mind about something.

"So let me help you," Pax said. "Tell me what you need."

Hiding how pleased he felt with the other's soft words, Steffan gave him his most innocent wide-eyed look, replying:

"I can't take your money."

"Yes, you can," Pax said.

"And what if I'm too proud to take your money?"

"Then I guess you'll have to ask yourself just how desperately you want to get away."

Steffan may have been merely sixteen years old, but he was mature for his age and people often though he was older than he was, and Pax clearly thought that he was old enough to be living on his own. …Of course, if he knew that his latest crush was a sixteen-year old...

Steffan opened his mouth, as to speak, but Pax silence him placing a finger over his lips.

"Let me help you," he said softly, his blue eyes staring into Steffan's.

Steffan made it seem as if he was pondering it, then he – adding just the right amount of reluctance into it – nodded his agreement. Pax stroke his cheek and Steffan smiled faintly, not as much as the person who'd found a way out of a troublesome situation as the con artist who would finally get something out of his work.


	4. Love At First Sight

**Pt. 3: Love At First Sight**

A/N: I got so caught up in the writing, I forgot he was naked…

Summary: Steffan has never experienced anything even remotely resembling love, so will he recognise it when he sees it?

slash

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><p>Stepping out of the shower, Steffan smiled at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He had his mark just where he wanted him, and he had a real good feeling about it all.<p>

Evening was not far away and he'd returned to the Townhouse, but he hadn't come to stay for another night - though he had been tempted to do so - he had things to do. But of course, he thought to himself smiling even broader, _he would _say farewell to Anton before he left, needless to say that it would be most rude if he didn't but also because he wanted the man to remember him after that he'd left.

Gazing into the mirror he turned his head while looking at his face. He'd always been told that his looks were sheer perfection, even as a child, and so far there hadn't been anyone who had resisted him. And he wouldn't have Anton being the first who did.

Toweling his hair dry he entered the adjoining bedroom, absently wandering out the open door to stand on the balcony, happy to get out of the room, which had been close to suffocating warm (the AC must have broken down, Steffan thought), to a more pleasant temperature. He rather enjoyed the feel of the warm rays of the sun on his naked body and standing there – the warmth hugging his body, the sun shining down at him and a subtle wind making sure that he was never too warm – Steffan gave himself over to the moment.

But he abruptly opened his eyes as he heard a gasp behind him. Half turning he looked back toward the doors of the balcony and saw a man, looking to be only a few years older than himself, standing there his eyes fixed on Steffan's bare form – judging from the expression on the man's face he was obviously impressed with what he saw. Holding back the smug smile and instead putting on a look of innocence Steffan turned all the way, the towel hanging limply from his hand to, just barely, touch the ground and the wind slightly moving his still damp hair.

He observed the young man, who was engrossed in the sight he'd been faced with, and found that he was a very good looking man. Though not one that his mother would accept him to get involved with, on the other hand she didn't want him to be involved with anybody but for the 'relationships' that he usually engaged in. This man was an Attendant, and Steffan wouldn't be allowed to waste his time on servants – which was something his mother had made very clear.

But all those thoughts were wiped off his mind as the young man raised his eyes to look directly into his. The eyes had a dark shade of blue which Steffan had never seen in a pair of eyes before and they held him captivated unable to look away even if he'd wanted to.

"Who are you?" Steffan asked in a slightly breathless voice, feeling that nothing was more important right now than the answer to that question.

"My name is Vihtori," the young Attendant replied.

Steffan smiled, the first spontaneous and genuine smile that day, and he felt a shyness he hadn't felt in many years. Suddenly modest he held the towel in his hands in front of him so that it hung down to cover him, looking at the other man through lowered eyelashes.

"I didn't mean to interrupt in your… drying up," Vihtori said, Steffan liked his voice it was soft and very pleasant. "I came to drop of your clothes, which I suspect you'll need - sooner or later…" He said the last with a faint smile, and a light pink spread across Steffan's cheeks. "I saw that the doors were open and…" And he'd gone out to get some fresh air after having been stuck inside the warm mansion. Though, he hadn't foreseen the lovely company that would be waiting there.

"And here you are," Steffan said, finishing the sentence Vihtori had left hanging. He went over to a bench by the rail and sat down, now more conscious about the grace he added to the movements, and then he turned to look lingering, and with a certain amount of longing, at the other man.

Vihtori hesitated and then he approached to sit down next to the blonde, tentatively meeting his gaze having in thought the expression he'd seen on his employer's face when Prosper had asked the Chief Attendant, Vihtori's superior, to tell him when Steffan had returned. Though he couldn't deny that he felt a certain attraction to this young man, and he figured that as long as Prosper didn't find out it would be okay, he also fully knew that it was nothing but excuses and if - when - Prosper did find out it wouldn't be good for him.

Steffan was directing his full attention at Vihtori while absently rubbing the hair with the towel, till finally he put it down on his lap. Then he, having decided that the most effective thing to do was to be direct rather than carefully walk around it, reached up and planted his lips on the other's.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile the Chief Attendant had come to see whether Steffan had returned and attracted by the voices he'd walked out on the balcony to see Prosper's guest and the Attendant kissing. He frowned disapproving and left as silently as he'd come.<p>

He had during the years he'd been there become dedicated to his employer, and he'd learnt to interpret the subtle inflections in Prosper's voice and behavior, and therefore he knew that this Steffan Kabala meant more to Prosper than he let know.

He wondered if he should tell Prosper about what he'd seen, or if he should spare him that insight and just let him be blissfully happy to hear that his charge had returned.

* * *

><p>He nuzzled his face into the other man's soft, shoulder-length, dark brown hair and sighed happily. Who'd know, he though, that it could be more than a mean to an end? He didn't think that he'd sought sexual intimacy before just for the sake of pleasure, the concept was new to him and he liked it. He put his head down to rest in the curve between neck and shoulder, lulled by the sound of a bird's distant song.<p>

He barely heard when a sharp chirp suddenly erupted or felt when the man, whose arms he was nestled in, gave a jerk. He merely mumbled incoherently, keeping his eyes closed and a blissful smile on his face, and snuggled closer to what of the body was still within his reach as Vihtori leant over the edge of the bench and reached to pick something out of a pocket of his trousers. He read the message of the device's screen and groaned, thinking that there couldn't be a more inconvenient time.

"I got to go," Vihtori said softly, tenderly stroking a golden cheek of the face resting against his chest. Steffan opened his eyes and gazed up at him, pale green eyes sparkling as the sun touched them, an eyebrow slightly raised. "The boss is calling."

_Boss?_

Steffan blinked, for a moment his mind was blank, till he remembered where he was and why. But neither of them seemed important anymore, he'd forgotten completely about Prosper and about his mother's command. For this precious while he'd been able to let go of everything else and to just be himself, and he felt a tug of loss as Vihtori slid out from under him and gently put him down on the marble surface of the bench, cool against his skin in the otherwise warm day, and got dressed.

He sat up and pushed some hair out of his face while he waited for Vihtori to be done, and then he rose to wander over to him and closed himself within his arms, kissing the taller man before speaking.

"Maybe you could come back later," Steffan suggested. "We could get to know each other."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: Vihtori will come to play, if a small, part in the 'Love and Death'-fic…**


	5. To Resist Temptations

**Pt. 4: To Resist Temptations**

* * *

><p>The enchantment the young man, Steffan Kabala, had had on him was gone.<p>

When he'd met him, Anton had looked upon his face and seen innocence, so Anton had given him shelter from the bad weather and whatever else might have been waiting out there. But he'd been fooled by a mirage set up by a deceptive mind. He saw that now.

"Master Prosper."

He looked over his shoulder at the man who was crossing the terrace toward him.

"You ask me to let you know when Mr. Kabala returned," the Chief Attendant said.

"He's back?" Anton said, not revealing with his voice what was on his mind.

"Yes."

Casting one last thoughtful look over the grounds, he went back into the Townhouse.

* * *

><p>As the door to the bedroom slid aside Anton got it confirmed that the Attendant had been true; Steffan had returned, and in this very moment he was changing clothes. No, he corrected himself, Steffan was getting dressed; there was no other clothes lying around. For a moment, and then another one, Anton remained in the doorway watching the slim, golden figure standing by the bed, appreciation written in his eyes.<p>

Hearing the door open Steffan turned around and was showing off his still bare torso, the shirt in his hand.

"Hello," the blonde said, looking a bit startled yet managed to smile at him.

"You're back," Anton said, not allowing himself to be taken in by the sweet smile that was aimed at him. "Does that mean you're staying?"

"Actually, no," Steffan replied, returning his attention to the shirt again. While he turned it over to see the front form the back Anton went up to him, taking the shirt from him as to help. But instead he reached up to caressingly touch the smooth golden skin of the man standing before him. Steffan followed the hand with his eyes, after which he turned back to stare at Anton.

"I'm afraid I cannot stay to play," Steffan said in a half playful, to hide his insecurity, kind of way. "But if the situation had been different…"

"Are you sure?" Anton put a whole range of implied intentions in his voice.

"Yes." Steffan snatched the shirt from Anton's grasp and stepped away from him. Glancing at his hands Anton could see that Steffan was fidgeting with the shirt, while he was fighting to keep his breath steady.

"Why so anxious?" Anton said, pushing a stray hair out of the blonde's face and over his shoulder. He felt Steffan tense and saw his lips part slightly, and a smile crept onto his face. His voice smooth as silk he went on: "I thought you said that you like me, so why are you shying away from me?"

Steffan stared at him dumbfounded; Anton remembered something he'd said six years earlier?

He stared into the green eyes that were staring back at him, and could see Steffan's wavering mind in them. He moved in to stand close to Steffan their faces almost touching. Anton reached to cup the other's chin while his thumb traced the soft bottom lip.

Blinking Steffan backed away. In just a short time his intentions had changed, hours before he'd thought to snare him – not for his riches but for the attraction - but after meeting the Attendant earlier that afternoon he had a new interest.

Steffan's eyes were downcast gazing still at the shirt, and Anton observed how the lowered lids so perfectly blended with the smoothness of the rest of the face, the lashes casting long shadows. Something about him had changed since they'd last talked, he seemed distracted for some reason.

Although he'd decided that he would not let this young, and very deceptive, man lure him with his false intentions, Anton was feeling cheated now when Steffan didn't show the same enthusiasm as he earlier had.

Steffan was, like many other times when he'd been thinking of things that one way or another involved his mother, torn. He'd been attracted to Anton, something that his mother probably would encourage – though not because he liked him but because Anton was very, very rich. And if she got to know that he'd let a chance like this go by… she wouldn't forgive him any time soon.

But then there was Vihtori. Steffan liked him. He made him forget completely about anybody else he might have been in love with. If there ever had been love...

Steffan groaned inwardly.

It'd never been this troublesome before. In any other situation he would have taken the chance when he got it, but now he was afraid that Vihtori would walk in on them and that he would misunderstand.

Anton watched him suspiciously. Through his mind raced the conversation between Steffan and his mother which he'd overheard. Was this maybe part of how he hauled the victims closer? First he shows interest for them, and then he appears to withdraw, triggering whatever feeling making them seek to regain his attention.

But he wouldn't be fooled by that.

His eyes was drawn to the torso, looking like a delicate golden sculpture, and found it very hard to look away. When he was finally able to look away, his eyes went back up to the face, and with his eyes caressing the full lips imagining their softness would they touch his own.

His lips caught Steffan's and he smiled as he felt their sweet taste. But he also felt Steffan tensing against him, though that notion fled his mind as soon as it had come. Capturing the other body in a tight embrace he backed the other man toward the bed, all till he could feel Steffan hitting its side. Then he pulled away and pushed Steffan down on the soft bedspread, the green eyes staring up at him with an explicit uncertainty in them.

Anton straddled him, one knee on either side of his hips, efficiently keeping the other man in place and leant over Steffan so that their faces were merely an inch apart. He captured Steffan's lips again, either not seeing or not caring about the obvious doubt Steffan was displaying.

Steffan lay staring up into the ceiling as the other was marking his territory by showering him with kisses, starting off by the neck but steadily working his way down the upper body. He'd dreamt about this moment, but instead of giving himself over to it and relish in Anton's kisses he thought of Vihtori – feeling his touch rather than Anton's.

This was wrong, he thought, not that he was thinking about Vihtori when being with Anton – or maybe that was a little wrong – but that he was with Anton when he was so obviously attracted to Vihtori.

He looked down at Anton, having reached solar plexus and merrily continuing, and took a deep breath. Then he reached down and lifted Anton's head, separating the man's lips from his belly, and as an effect to that stopped Anton's hand which had begun moved downward. Anton gazed at him confused.

"I can't do this," Steffan said, pushing Anton away so that he could rise from the bed. "I'm sorry."

"No."

It was Steffan's turn to give Anton a confused look.

"No?" he said.

"No." Anton repeated. "Ever since you got here you'd been playing with me, luring me into your little trap. Enough playing." Still straddling the young man he placed his hand firmly on Steffan's chest and roughly pushed him back down.

Recalling a situation from a not too far away past when he'd been approached in a forceful way, Steffan felt panic rising in him. But he urged himself to calm down, and as Anton lowered himself onto him Steffan drew his knee up and with a trained grace and accuracy he hit the groin of the man on top him.

Steffan could see the pain in the hazel eyes above him. Anton's whole face seemed to, if possible, grow even paler. He stiffened and then doubled over, and Steffan took the opportunity to push the other off of him and he rose from the bed. His eyes roaming the floor he found his abandoned shirt and the bag he'd dumped there earlier, he picked them both up and dashed across the room and out the door.


End file.
